


The Simplicity of Breaking

by MulticoloredRose



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Cultural Differences, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Harassment, Inquisitor Sided with Templars, M/M, tent sharing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-05-02 09:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14542026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MulticoloredRose/pseuds/MulticoloredRose
Summary: Dorian risked his life to escape Haven and rush to the Inquisition's aid. Unfortunately though, there are quite a few people who would rather that Dorian bow out and aren't afraid to let it be known, and on top of that Dorian learns that he has somehow fallen on Corypheus's radar.





	1. Chapter 1

The smell that permeated the air was absolutely _foul_. It was the smell of decay and rot on top of wet, moldy wood and the sulfuric tang of demons. Once he’d foolishly thought that no place would ever smell worse than Redcliff during the Elder One's first rise amongst the mages, but at least Redcliff had been a stale, dry odor. This? This was horrid and swampy and wet. It clung to the air and leeched itself onto his clothes and the clothes of those around him. Even a spell at night couldn’t keep the stench outside of the tent and Dorian was seconds away from either turning tail and heading back to Skyhold by himself or hurling. He rather hoped that it was the first option if he got his own say in it, the second one would be rather undignified after all.

The Inquisition soldiers littered around the camp sent him distrustful looks whenever they thought no one else was watching. They didn’t seem to care too much if Dorian himself noticed, only really if one of the other members of the Inquisitor’s inner circle did. For Templars, Dorian would have figured that they’d at least be slightly more subtle then they were but at the same time the constant feeling of being right might blind them to their own stupidity.

To a point, it was equal parts exasperating and entertaining, although any amusement that he might be pulling himself through these moments with was quickly fading with each act of retaliation from one of the Templar soldiers. He didn’t fully know why a Tevinter mage was more of a threat to them rather than the demons and undead prowling their perimeter but it was slightly exhausting. He kind of wondered where he’d rank in regards to ‘enemy’ levels alongside Corypheus himself and a funny thought crossed his mind. He’d probably be worse in their eyes since Corypheus at least maintained the imagined status quo that the South loved to spout about those evil blood mages while Dorian himself did everything in his power to circumvent such notions.

In that way, Dorian figured he _was_ more dangerous than Corypheus. And being one of the last few mages who didn’t join alongside the darkness certainly didn’t earn him any favors since they wanted nothing more than to crush any idea of a ‘good mage’ despite the rhetoric that Cullen and the Inquisitor preached.

He didn’t think that meant that he deserved the hostile looks, the muttered insults and snide remarks thrown at him, the spitting and the snarls and the refusal to interact with him on any level other than a negative one. The campfire with the rest of the ragtag group that the Inquisitor had managed to gather around herself was one of the only times that he didn’t have to deal with the push and pull that being a mage – let alone a Tevinter mage – amongst a whole bunch of angry Templars.

“Come on Sparkler, eat up.” Varric’s voice brings him out of his internal reverie and Dorian glances down at the small plate that he’s been picking at. “I swear a pigeon eats more than you have.”

“Probably watching his figure.” One of the Chargers says and they get a few snorts at that and Dorian bites back the sigh that wants to escape.

“I guess the smell of rotting corpses just so happens to put me off my dinner. Who knew?” He asks with a small shrug.

“Shouldn’t that be a normal state of existence for you?” One of the soldiers snaps. “You know, being knee deep in dead bodies?”

“Did you want it?” Dorian asks, ignoring the man’s comment and trying to ignore the sudden lethargy that rushes through him. He’s not in the mood right now to put up with the Templar’s constant digging. “I’d hate for it to go to waste.” He says as he nudges it at the dwarf. Varric has always been kind to him, never once making a snide comment about his place of birth or his supposed affinity for blood magic. Dorian wonders why, but determines that he’ll probably never ask. He’d rather not make an enemy of the one person who hasn’t been against him by pointing it out.

“Are you sure?” Varric asks and there’s a small look of unsure…what looks to be concern, there. “I mean, mages need a lot of food to keep up their energy and you’ve been…” He makes a motion with his hand that Dorian assumes is supposed to pantomime him using magic. “A lot.”

“I’m sure.” He assures him and Varric looks conflicted for a moment before he shakes his head no and Dorian looks up to the rest of them. “Any takers?” He asks and there’s silence for a moment.

“Who’d want to eat something a blood mage touched?” A muffled question asks behind him, not loud enough for the whole group to hear but certainly loud enough to reach Dorian’s ears. Dorian doesn’t flinch like he’s sure the man is expecting him to, but he’s annoyed to admit to himself that it’s a near thing.

“I’ll take it.” The Iron Bull’s voice says next to him and it startles him for a second before the qunari reaches out and takes the plate from him before sliding it onto his own. There’s still a hidden menace to the Iron Bull’s existence in Dorian’s immediate space even as the qunari starts munching on the new pieces of meat on his plate with a simple ‘thanks’. The reminder of the other man makes Dorian’s skin crawl. He knows why the Inquisitor brought the Iron Bull along when she asked for Dorian to accompany them here. Dorian of course was a natural choice to bring – a necromancer amongst a horde of undead is a no brainer – and the Iron Bull was a natural choice to bring in case the mage decided to go the way of his countrymen ( or perhaps they all still thought that Dorian was still an agent in disguise sent to them by some amazing foresight that Corypheus had prior to marching on Haven ). How many Tevinter blood mages had the qunari killed with his own hands? How long before those hands turned against him for the slightest of misrepresented moments?

Dorian doesn’t doubt that he’ll have to fight his way out of Skyhold one day, or at the very least out of the small yet capable group who will eventually turn on him. It could be tonight, it could be tomorrow or it could be months from now. Dorian knows that it’s inevitable though, that much is clear. But this is where Dorian is needed, and he refuses to run away. Not unless he can say in the moments afterwards that he did everything in his power and more to stop this psychotic pre-Blight Magister and his designs on godhood.

The eyes on him as he sits there without a plate in his hands to justify his presence weigh heavily on him and eventually he decides that its time to turn in for the night. He inclines to them all, wishing them a goodnight as he stands and makes his way to his tent. It’s a little more out to the edges of the camp than he likes to be, but it hasn’t really been a problem – or at least not until now.

“Vishante kaffas.” Dorian snaps to himself as he stares at the slashes through the sides of his tent. It’ll take a while to repair the damage and Dorian doesn’t doubt that magic is strictly off limits. One of the Templars are probably waiting off in the bushes patting themselves on the back for a job well done and just waiting for a chance to say that they misunderstood what he was doing and thought he was using blood magic or something equally dangerous so they attacked first without asking questions as a good little Templar is bound to do.

It’s been three days, and Dorian fights back the irritation at the realization that he doesn’t know how much longer they’re going to be out here. The Inquisition soldiers who have been captured are undoubtedly still alive out there somewhere, since Dorian doesn’t doubt that they’d be receiving _parts_ of them back if they were truly dead – but it’s things like this that make Dorian want to just pack up and leave this horrid swamp.

There’s a noise on the air that reaches his ears and it makes his grip on his staff tighten. _Chuckling_. Some small group is watching him from somewhere off to his left and they’re amused by his irritation. Maker take them all.

Dorian shakes his head and turns away from the tent, making his way to the front of the camp. He doesn’t doubt that Varric will let him share a tent with him if he asked, as it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve bunked together but he’s not looking forward to the dwarfs incessant snoring.

“What do you want Vint?” The guards at the front of the camp hiss at him and he holds his hand up in what he hopes is a gesture that shows them that he means no harm.

“I’m going to do some rounds, maybe lay out a few wards to deter any curious undead.” He says as he steps past them. It’s unwise to leave on his own, but he doubts that any soldier he’d bring with him would actually assist if he were in trouble so it’s almost better to just go alone.

Certainly safer at least, and that says something.

“How about you do us all a favor and stay gone?” One of them hisses and Dorian turns slightly to give them one of his more charming grins.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He tells him and he sees the twitch under the man’s eye and he wonders the wisdom of aggravating the already tense situation when the soldiers hand shifts to rest on the hilt of his blade for a moment. The soldier seems to remember the Inquisitor’s ‘non-aggression’ command when it came to Dorian though because he just spits at the ground near Dorian’s feet and drops his hand. Dorian shakes his head and heads out. He needs a few minutes away from the Inquisition, if only to have a few moments to breathe.

It’s simple enough to determine the best places to lay traps and wards for the undead. It’s one of the first lessons his necromancy teachers ever taught him and it’s nice to feel like he’s doing something useful after all of that negativity.

Sometimes he misses Tevinter.

Although he figures that’s not true, he misses _Felix_. He misses Alexius as he used to be and the way that things were once upon a time before everything fell apart. Dorian’s not so foolish as to think that the Tevinter of his memories is the Tevinter that’s currently standing right now. He doesn’t delude himself into thinking that he could go back and find something even remotely similar to how he remembers it being. Alexius is dead, Felix is dead…anyone who might have cared about Dorian is gone.

He never wanted to be the last one standing.

He lays the wards down in silence, striking down any of the bolder undead soldiers who come up out of the water for him as he does. He figures that he’ll finish up the circle and then return to the camp, at the very least he won’t be afraid of an undead siege occurring while he sleeps. There’s a moment, a feeling driven into him from months and months of being on the run that tells him that he’s no longer alone and he tightens his grip on his staff as he preps himself for a potential battle. There is of course the chance that it’s just a traveler, or some dalish passing him by but he doesn’t hold onto that hope.

“Now isn’t this fortunate?” A man’s voice asks in a heavy Tevinter accent and Dorian’s heart does a complicated little flip in fear. “And here we’d had this whole plan to lure you out and yet here you are. Our god smiles on us this night.” Dorian turns to address the man and he bites back a curse when he sees the seven Venatori mages come out of the dark. “Like a lamb to the slaughter.”

+++

“Hey Tiny, have you seen Sparkler?” Varric asks him as he approaches and The Iron Bull pauses in the sharpening of his axe.

“Is he not in his tent?” He asks and Varric shakes his head.

“Not unless he’s mastered the art of becoming invisible.” Varric says. “I have a few snacks lying around and I thought that he might have changed his mind about dinner but he wasn’t there. Although I’m going to have to have a word with the Inquisitor about what I did find.”

“Meaning?”

“Someone’s slashed his tent up real good.” Varric says with a sigh. “I doubt anyone laid a hand on him, it’s a different beast to attack an inanimate object as opposed to a living person who can and certainly will fight back…but I don’t like how long it’s taking to find him. I doubt he’s anywhere in the camp at this point.”

“Alright, let’s go find him.” Iron Bull says as he stands and slides the axe back into its holster. “Hey have you seen the mage?” Iron Bull asks one of the soldiers at the entrance and they give him rather useless shrugs. “Did he come by?”

“He said he wanted to do a perimeter check.” The taller one answers him.

“Who’d he take with him?” Bull asks and they shake their heads. “You let him go alone?”

“He’s probably out there looking for his latest victims.” The other one says and Bull steps in closer, pleased when it makes them go perfectly straight and look up at him in concern and fear.

“Our men are getting taken out there in groups and you let one go out alone?” He asks calmly and they swallow. “No one is allowed to leave the camp alone, you know that.”

“He knew that too.” The tall one tries to sound firm but it comes out slightly wobbly. “And he still left. He’s not our responsibility if he wants to get himself killed out there.”

“Which way did he go?” Bull asks, and they both point in the same direction over their shoulders. “When I get back, we’ll have words.” He warns them before motioning for Varric to follow him. “Tell the Inquisitor that we’ve left camp to go looking for Dorian.” He snaps and he gets nods as one of them rushes off to do what’s been commanded of him. Bull pushes them out of his mind as he leans down and looks at the tracks in the mud. It’s not hard to find the Vint’s tracks, his boots leave a rather distinct mark in the mud. “He went this way.” He says, leading Varric along with him. They find several necromantic wards laid out, protection for a camp that hasn’t been the most welcoming to the mage, before Bull temporarily loses the trail.

“What now?” Varric asks, looking around. “He could have gone anywhere.”

“He went that way.” Bull says with absolute certainly and Varric arches an eyebrow at him.

“What makes you say that?”

“Do you honestly think he got in the water if he didn’t have to?” Bull asks, and it’s so obvious that even Varric chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Good point.” He agrees as they follow the small areas in between the murky water. “What the hell was Sparkler thinking? Coming this far from camp?”

“I guess we’ll ask him when we find him.” Bull says and Varric goes to reply when the echo of a fire spell catches their attention. They don’t bother to glance at each other as they take off towards the area where the sound came from.

+++

“Come now _Dorian_.” The leader all but purrs Dorian’s name and Dorian can say that he’s rather not fond of it. “Stop this foolish struggle and come along quietly.” Dorian lets out a tired chuckle.

“No, no I don’t think I’ll be doing that. I’m sure you understand.” He tells the man with a small grin. “Although I do appreciate the small reprieve, very generous.” The remaining four Venatori slowly pace themselves around him and he glances at them temporarily before returning his attention to the leader. “Although I will say, I’m surprised that you haven’t tried to kill me right out.”

“Lord Corypheus would rather you not be harmed.” The man says and Dorian’s pretty sure he makes an unhappy face at that.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He says. “Why would Corypheus care? I’m nothing but a simple, albeit rather handsome, mage. He’s got his hands full with all the mages who have flocked to him, I doubt that I should rank very high on his list.”

“Oh, but you do. He knows all about you Dorian Pavus.” The man says, taking unconcerned steps towards Dorian and Dorian pushes himself up to his feet, ready to defend himself again. He doubts he’ll win this fight, but if he can at least take out one more of them then he’ll be able to say that he got the majority before they took him down. “And he’s very impressed.”

“Really? And here I thought that I hadn’t done anything very impressive. Or at least not by Old Magisterium standards.”

“Magister Alexius disagreed. He spoke of you often, praised you even more than his own son.” The man says and Dorian can’t help the pain that twists through him at that. “He was rather taken aback when you refused his offer to join the winning side.”

“You haven’t won yet.” Dorian reminds the man calmly. “And I wouldn’t say that your side is ‘winning’ by a landslide either.”

“The Elder One remembers you in Redcliff.” The Venatori leader says. “He knows better than anyone the skill and the power that you utilized to undo Alexius’s and Calpernia’s spells and escape to Haven. The Inquisition may not understand, but he does and he wants you at his side.”

“I decline.” Dorian says firmly. “I may not have fully managed to stop him in Redcliff, but I would _never_ join the Elder One’s insane crusade.”

“Oh don’t worry, he has… _ways_ to change your mind.” The Venatori leader says with a slow grin. “But I’m told that you already know of these methods.” A brief flash of the blood magic ritual that his father had planned for him rushes through Dorian and almost takes all the air out of his lungs.

“You do realize that telling me this only solidifies my determination that under no circumstances do I allow you to take me, even if that only means that I don’t allow you to take me _alive_.”

“You’ve lost. You’re barely standing, and we both know that you’re not going to overpower us.” The leader states. “And your little ‘friends’ aren’t going to come to your aid. It has to be tiring…we’ve been watching.” The look on the man’s face turns pitying and Dorian almost wants to punch it off his face. “We see how they’ve treated you. Stop pulling yourself over the coals for them, trust me they wouldn’t do it for you.”

“I know that this might be a strange concept for you to understand, but I don’t do what I’m doing so that others will respect me or be grateful or anything else really. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do.”

“The ‘right thing to do’ is such a mercurial concept. Dictated by factors that can change at any moment.”

“Well unfortunately for you and your ‘Elder God’, my factors are pretty set in stone.”

“That will change.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“I guess we will.” The leader agrees with him, and Dorian’s ready for the attack the moment it comes. He’s not fast enough to fully avoid it and the electrical current that hits his side tears the flesh and makes his teeth clench tight in pain as he snaps up his staff to land a hit to the soft exposed area of the leader’s neck. He twists past the pain in his side as he drops slightly and slams a fire spell into the man’s middle area and gets a small pleased sensation when it knocks the leader flat on his ass. He doesn’t have time to enjoy his small victory as he’s moving on instinct to avoid the other spells and attacks from the others.

He doesn’t manage to bite back the cry of pain that escapes him when one lands a hit that sends him to the ground himself and he feels the start of the binding spell that’ll end this fight. He snarls out a counter spell just in the nick of time and he readies himself for an attack that doesn’t come. Frowning he looks up and he sees the Leader glaring in his direction – but not at him, behind him. Dorian turns slightly to see what he’s looking at and he’s not sure how he feels about feeling relieved at seeing the Iron Bull stepping fully into the clearing while dropping a fresh Venatori corpse. Varric steps out a second after him, reloading Bianca and Dorian realizes that the other Venatori are dead outside of the leader.

“Are you alright Sparkler?” Varric asks as he levels the next arrow at the leader and Dorian lets out a soft chuckle as he nods. He’s in pain and he just wants to sleep for the next fifty years, but he can’t describe the relief he feels at knowing that the Venatori aren’t going to succeed in dragging him to their damned god.

“More will come Pavus. We are _legion_ and the Elder One will get what he wants. He always does.”

“Not today he doesn’t.” The Iron Bull says with a careless sort of tone to his voice as he steps forward and Dorian doesn’t have the heart to watch as the axe comes down on the leader. He jumps a little when a hand rests on his shoulder suddenly.

“Woah there, it’s just me.” Varric says as he tugs lightly on Dorian’s arm to get a glimpse at his side. “How bad is it? Can you make it back to camp?”

“Of course.” Dorian says with more bravado than he feels. He’s not sure if he can even stand at this moment, let alone walk all the way back to the camp right now but he won’t tell them that. ‘Never show weakness to your enemy’ Halward had always said and it was a lesson that Dorian hopes he’s taken to heart as he forces himself to his feet. The world does a strange sort of rocking back and forth sensation, but Dorian locks his knees and forces himself to remain standing through sheer force of will.

“That looks pretty nasty.” The Iron Bull says from too fucking close to him and Dorian didn’t even register him coming closer with how much focus and energy he’s expending just to remain upright.

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is.” Dorian says in a way he hopes is blasé.

“I’m glad we made it in time. Although that guy certainly liked the sound of his own voice.” Varric says as they start moving forward and Dorian smiles a little.

“He did, didn’t he?” Dorian states and he hears Varric chuckle.

“A whole bloody monologue. They didn’t even notice Tiny and I getting into position.” Varric’s words blur a little at the end and Dorian bites the inside of his cheek for a moment.

“Thanks for that.” He says, it feels important to say.

“Anytime Sparkler. You’re one of us, don’t let anyone else tell you differently.” The dwarf tells him and Dorian can’t help the sigh.

“If only that were true.” He mutters to himself and his step slips on the next rock and everything goes dark long before he hits the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment below!


	2. Chapter 2

It’s pathetically easy for Varric and him to sneak up on the small group in the clearing. The group of mages who have surrounded Dorian aren’t paying any attention to their perimeter, obviously already assured in their assumed success, while Dorian is kneeling in the center of them, looking up at the leader with a glance full of bored defiance.

The conversation between Dorian and the Venatori leader gives Bull and Varric plenty of time to get into position behind them even as it opens up a lot of concerning questions and a potential new problem. Bull has had questions about Redcliff, of course he has. Unfortunately the only person with any kind of information about what occurred is Dorian himself and the mage has been surprisingly tight lipped about the whole thing. Bull nods at Varric, and the dwarf nods back at him as he notches Bianca signaling his readiness. Bull can already see the exhaustion in Dorian’s body, the way he’s leaning on his staff a little more and more with each passing second although he manages to hide it for the most part. It puts a dangerous edge on what’s coming next. Dorian’s clearly not in a position to fight anymore, Bull would be slightly surprised if Dorian even managed to get another spell out before he falls over, stubbornness or no.

The moments following however do cause Bull to reevaluate his initial impression of Dorian and the strength that the mage has. Bull’s always known that the Vint has been hiding his real talent, that much is obvious even without the Venatori practically spelling it out, but its impressive to see him in this moment with his back up against a wall and refusing to bow his head. Most of the time, Bull will admit to enjoying watching the mage fight. Probably almost as much as the other man likes being watched, but that playful Dorian isn’t here right now. Instead, the Venatori leader attacks and Bull watches Dorian twist to the side, snapping up his staff with a violent efficiency. This isn’t the Dorian who has fought alongside them with his sarcastic quips, this is a Dorian whose moves are contained and calculated and acted upon with deadly intent. There’s no excess energy wasted, he doesn’t have it to spare and Bull almost wants to whistle at the display and he actually comes to the determination that the little Vint might have managed to take one or two more Venatori down with him before they truly bound him, but it’s time for him and Varric to intervene in the chaos. The Venatori don’t see them coming at all, too distracted in trying to contain the necromancer and they’re struck down like helpless little nugs.

It’s easy to see Dorian’s eventual collapse coming from a mile away. He’s trying to hide it, and it’s almost adorable how hard he’s trying.

“If only that were true.” Dorian says before he slips and Bull feels the frown cross his face at the words as he reaches out and catches the mage before he can hit the ground and aggravate any wounds he might have received from the fight.

“Shit! Sparkler!” Varric snaps as he reaches out for Dorian and Bull twists him gently to lay him down on a nearby patch of grass so that they can see what they’re working with.

“Do you have any potions?” Bull asks Varric as he reaches into his own pouch and pulls out one of the small vials he has on him. It’s not going to do much, but it’ll tide the other man over until they can get him back to the camp and get a healer to look over him.

“Only one.” Varric says, pulling it out quickly. “Why didn’t he say he needed one? I swear! Stupid, reckless, self-sacrificing idiots! Why do I always find them?” Iron Bull arches an eyebrow at the small explosion and Varric sighs with a wave of his hand. “Remind me to tell you about Hawke sometime later.” _The Champion of Kirkwall_ , Bull’s mind supplies and he figures that it makes sense. He’s heard the stories, from both sides and he’d believe it.

Varric reaches for Dorian’s face, adjusting his head carefully before tilting the potion past his lips slowly and with the talent of someone who has clearly done this multiple times before. He doesn’t go too fast, doesn’t lose a drop and doesn’t accidentally choke Dorian with it. Satisfied with the dwarf’s abilities, Bull starts looking for other wounds besides the nasty one visible through the tear in his clothes on his side. The belts and buckles are nice to look at any other time, but Bull stomps down a slight annoyance at trying to get past them and to the skin underneath. His hand freezes when he finally manages to pull the shirt out of the way and he’s able to get his first glance at the mage’s torso.

The wound isn’t as bad as some of the wounds that Bull has seen before, hell it’s not even as bad as some of the ones that he’s experienced himself, but it looks nasty when revealed to their searching eyes. What’s worse though, is that there are bruises on the mages skin, dark and purplish- greenish marks that speak of battles suffered long before this one whose wounds hadn’t healed over yet.

“What in Andraste’s name?” Varric hisses, obviously coming to the same conclusion that Bull has and Bull shakes his head.

“Later, we’ll deal with all of this later.” He says as he uncorks the potion in his hand and drips it over the angry looking wound. It’ll keep it from getting worse, or from getting infected. A serious problem that’s compounded with the location that they’re in right now with all of the undead stomping around and leaving their own brand of sickness in their wake. “Let’s get back to the Inquisitor before she starts getting antsy or before any backup these assholes might have had shows up.” Bull states as he cleans the wound as best he can before tugging the shirt back into place and hoisting the unconscious brunet up into his arms.

They walk in silence all the way back to the camp, mostly to make sure that they don’t accidentally draw attention to themselves when they’re not really in a position to be getting into a fight. Varric is holding Bianca like he’s silently daring any Venatori or demon to show up and challenge him and the look on his face makes Bull feel like he might actually feel sorry for any poor bastard who might take him up on his offer right now. It’s normally very easy to underestimate the dwarf, his small stature and friendly demeanor blinding an outside entity to the true depths of strength that the man has and Bull is glad that fire is currently on their side.

The Inquisitor meets them at the entrance to the camp, blades in hand and looking more than ready to come scour the bogs for her wayward teammates, Maker damn the consequences. Inwardly, Bull is a little surprised that the Seeker managed to hold down the Inquisitor for this long. Cassandra seems to sigh in relief when she sees the two of them come out of the dark before her eyes land on the man in his arms and he sees the concern cross her harsh features and Evelyn’s eyes widen when she sees Dorian as well.

“What happened?” Evelyn asks, returning her blades to the harness on her back as she rushes over.

“Venatori.” Varric responds in a growl. “A lot of them. Sparkler took out a few, but who knows how many more are out there.”

“Up the guard.” Cassandra snaps, waving an arm at the guards standing around. “And get the healer.” Bull follows her through the camp to the Inquisitor’s personal tent, laying Dorian down on the cot before getting all but pushed out of the way when the healer arrives. “Bull, come.” Cassandra tells him, leading him out to the main tent where Varric is already waiting for them with the Inquisitor. “Okay, what happened?”

“He was laying protections down around the camp.” Varric tells her. “Bull and I found a few, but I doubt that he managed to finish up before he got attacked.”

“What was he thinking? Going outside the camp this late? And without backup?” Cassandra snaps and Varric sighs, running a hand over his face.

“Seeker, it can’t have passed your notice that Sparkler isn’t exactly well liked. I doubt anyone would have gone with him if he had asked, not that he would have.” Varric tells her and Cassandra gives him a look that says she doesn’t fully understand what he’s getting at. “Tell me Seeker, have you seen his tent tonight? No? Someone decided that it would be a good idea to slash it to hell.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” Varric says. “I went looking for him earlier, that’s how I knew he wasn’t where he should have been. It’s a good thing I did too.” Varric takes a second, sending a glance at Iron Bull before continuing. “…Sparkler didn’t stumble across the Venatori. They were _looking_ for him.”

“They were looking for Dorian? Why?” Evelyn asks, a frown on her face.

“Other than the obvious? Dorian is a useful agent, killing him would certainly weaken our defenses against them.” Cassandra says and Varric shakes his head.

“They didn’t want to kill him. They wanted to _take_ him.” Varric corrects and Evelyn looks between the two of them.

“Do we know why?” She asks and both Varric and Bull shrug.

“Has anyone ever asked him what exactly went down in Redcliff?” Varric says after a brief pause, and he gets head shakes all around. “Yeah, I haven’t either, but apparently there’s a story there and whatever that story is, it has Corypheus sending his pawns out to bring Sparkler to him.”

“Corypheus himself wants Dorian? Why?” Cassandra asks and it’s clear in her tone that she suspects that Varric knows more than he’s telling. Which is usually a safe bet, but Bull doubts it in this case.

“Not a clue.” Varric answers her and Cassandra crosses her arms and levels a glare on him. “Seriously!” Varric tries again and he holds his hands up in surrender when she doesn’t look like she’s buying it. “Sparkler doesn’t tell me anything.”

“He does keep things close to the chest.” Bull intervenes, and Varric sends him a ‘thank you’ sort of look when Cassandra backs down. “But one of those Venatori bastards mentioned something about how he escaped from Redcliff, so whatever the story is – it has to do with that.” Bull offers up, recalling the snippets of conversation that he remembers between Dorian and the Venatori leader.

“But why Dorian?” Cassandra presses. “I mean, he’s talented for a mage if not a little too showy, but nothing that I haven’t seen before.” The Seeker says and Bull can’t help the soft snort he gives, Varric has a similar amusement written on his face to her words as well. “What?”

“No offense Seeker, but have you ever fought an Altus before?” He asks her and she shakes her head. “Then I seriously doubt that you’ve seen _anything_ like him before.” Bull tells her and she gives him a look.

“What do you mean Bull? Speak plainly.” She demands and Bull shrugs.

“Dorian isn’t one of your southern circle mages, but he plays the role of one very well.” Bull replies. “But I doubt anything is further from the truth.”

“And what is ‘the truth’?” She presses.

“The truth?” Bull repeats with a shrug. “Hell if I know, but the one thing I do know is that I’ve fought Magisters before and I would have originally said that he easily fell in with their level. But then I watched him and he looks like he’s _playing around_ when he’s fighting. That’s concerning.” He looks at the two women. “I know the truth is that he hides his strength from us and no one pays attention because that’s what he wants. He’s distracted you all with the glitter and dance and you all bought it.” Bull lets that settle between them. “I also know though, that I’m not worried about him anymore.”

“Why?” Cassandra asks.

“Because I saw him when he thought he wasn’t being watched. I saw the disgust he has for Corypheus and the Venatori. That’s not a game, that’s not him playing around.”

“But wait, if Dorian is against Corypheus, why lie to us about what he can do?” Evelyn asks and Varric sighs.

“Because people who are supposed to be his allies slash his tent.” He tells her. “Because people who should be his allies spit at him and curse at him every chance they get? Because Skyhold, the place where we should all be safest, is undoubtedly a prison to him and the place where he has to have his guard up the most?” _“If only that were true”_ Dorian’s words echo in Bull’s mind with a heavy weight attached to them and he doesn’t bring them up.

“But why? Dorian’s one of us, why would anyone give him a hard time?” Evelyn presses and Varric shakes his head.

“Maybe because he’s a mage in a war against mages? Or maybe because he’s from Tevinter so people side eye him like he’s the devil? Or maybe because the methods of magic that he might have picked up or the way that he was raised causes people like us to turn our noses up at him and think we’re superior? Pick one and I’m sure that there are hundreds of variations of those problems that people in the Inquisition feel like they have a right to demand that he pay for it.”

“But he helped us.” The Inquisitor says. “He didn’t have to come to us.”

“Well he didn’t really mange to give us that much of a warning.” Cassandra admits. “And I have heard concerns about his true loyalties on many occasions.”

“He’s one of us.” The Inquisitor says firmly, with almost a warning in her own tone and Cassandra nods.

“I agree, but that doesn’t change the fear that many have that he could decide to change sides at any moment.”

“That could be true of any of us.” Evelyn says, crossing her arms.

“But he’s a Vint boss.” Bull states. “He’s already guilty as far as they’re concerned and nothing is really going to change their minds.” Evelyn makes a frustrated face at those words and Bull shrugs. It’s the truth after all.

“Our own problems aside, the thought that Corypheus wants him worries me.” Varric says. “I’ve seen what Corypheus can do to people first hand, and the thought of Sparkler falling to his control terrifies me. I mean, I know he’s no grey warden, but those Venatori mentioned how he had ways to ensure his cooperation.”

“Unless we know why Corypheus would want Dorian, any hope of understanding this situation is hopeless.” Cassandra says. “We will ask Dorian when he awakens.” Bull silently wonders if the other man will share the information with them even if he did know fully what was going on, but he keeps that to himself.

 _“If only that were true.”_ The echo of the words secretly tell Bull the answer though. Dorian’s not going to tell them.

Why would he?

+++

_“Alexius, this is what you and I talked about never wanting to happen! Why would you support this?”_

_“Felix reached out to me, he’s worried about you…I’m worried about you.”_

_“There’s still time Alexius, we can fix this. It isn’t too late.”_

_“Felix! Oh Maker Alexius what have you done!”_

_“I’m begging you, **please** don’t do this.” _

Dorian jolts awake to the sound of demons screeching and of _laughter_ echoing in his ears. For a moment, it’s hard to breathe, he’s still choking on the memory of sulfur and the metallic smell of blood – it’s hard to push the memories back into the far corner of his mind where he’s delegated for them to remain for all time since he can’t dig in there and rip them out with his own bare hands.

Despite the blanket on him, he feels cold. A sort of dread and chill that seeps the warmth and strength out of his body. He’s slightly grateful that his hands are underneath the blankets because even he can feel the tremors shaking them, the tremors that he’s doing everything in his power to keep from ravaging his whole body.

It’s the past. It happened, and there’s nothing that he can do to change it now. He has to keep moving, he has to stop Corypheus.

He has to stop him for the man that Alexius once was.

…He has to stop him for _Felix_.

A hand on his shoulder startles him, and he almost reacts to get it off of him before he has a chance to fully think it through.

“Whoa there Sparkler, it’s just me.” Varric says, immediately removing his hand. “Sorry, I should have known better, I thought you heard me say your name.” The dwarf apologizes as he comes into view. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over.” Dorian says, infusing his voice with a casual kind of playfulness that he doesn’t feel. He swallows past his dry throat and he frowns slightly at the remnants of the elfroot potion on his tongue. “I take it we made it back to camp.”

“Yeah, you gave us a good scare.” Varric tells him and Dorian mentally hits himself upside the head.

“Yes, quite sorry about all of that. Not my finest moment.”

“It’s fine, honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” Varric says and Dorian must give him some kind of look because he starts to explain. “My best friend is a mage whose kind of known for pressing his limits and not knowing when to back down. It’s probably shaved a few years off my life expectancy if I’m being honest. I know the signs of mana depletion better than most.” Varric tells him before his eyes go strangely soft. “Are you okay?”

“Well I’m feeling refreshed, and like I’ve had a very good night’s sleep. How long have I been out?”

“About nine hours.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Dorian says and he knows that he’s being willfully ignorant of what Varric is really asking. Dorian pauses for a moment, sitting up and pulling down the blankets before looking at his side. The skin is a little pinker than the area around it, but it won’t scar. “How much potion did that require?” He asks and Varric shrugs.

“No clue, a bit though I’d guess.”

“A waste really.” Dorian mutters. “Our supply train isn’t exactly continuous down here.”

“It wasn’t a waste and the Inquisitor has already sent for another supply run. So don’t worry about it.”

The tent flap gets pulled open moments later as the others walk in, summoned as if they could hear them talking about them. The Inquisitor gets a small smile when she sees he’s up.

“Dorian.” She greets as Cassandra presses forward.

“Dorian,” She says, her voice curt and all business, cutting between them easily. “Varric and Bull told us what happened. Why are the Venatori after you?”

“Ghee Seeker, couldn’t have let him take a breath? Maybe put a shirt on before you started grilling him?” Varric states and Dorian smiles.

“Well it is a rather nice view,” He says, motioning towards his chest. “And this tent could use some sprucing up. I don’t mind filling that role.” Dorian says and he bites back the smile that wants to emerge at how she huffs and rolls her eyes.

“This is not the time for your jokes Dorian. Why are they after you?” Cassandra repeats and Dorian shrugs.

“How should I know? I don’t exactly keep council with them despite the rumors floating around.” It’s a testament to how drained he still is that even as those words are said flippantly, they still slip out. “I don’t presume to know half of the things that they do or why they do them.” He tries to cover it up.

“Varric and Bull said that they mentioned Redcliff.” She says and it’s only years of training under his father for his eventual role in society that keeps any response or emotion off of his face at the mention of that hellscape.

“And can you try to sound less like you’re throwing Tiny and me under the cart while you’re at it?” Varric mutters and she shoots him a look that clearly tells him to be quiet.

“If there’s something that you know, you need to tell us.” She tells him and Dorian pretends to think about it.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Redcliff was hell. A lot of things happened there, a lot of things that _shouldn’t_ have happened at all, but why that would suddenly endear me to dear old Corypheus I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Stop with the misdirection’s Dorian.” She snaps and Dorian’s hard pressed not to imagine her like a mabari with a bone that it just won’t let go. “Tell us. You know, I know you know something.”

“And what pray tell has led you to that conclusion?” Dorian asks and she crosses her arms, staring him down for a moment. He can see the moment that she decides to come at this problem a different way.

“Who is Felix?” She says, clearly trying to throw him off guard and it works a little too spectacularly. It feels like ice has settled in his veins at the name and he knows that he’s given something up to their prying eyes.

“And where did you hear that name?” He asks, and his voice is eerily calm even to his own ears.

“You were calling it out in your sleep.” Cassandra says and Dorian’s a little surprised when Bull steps forward.

“Alright Seeker, too much.” Bull says, shaking his head with a stern look when she goes to say something to him. “I don’t know how our original plan to speak with Dorian has somehow turned into an interrogation, but clearly you’ve crossed a line.” He looks at Dorian. “Okay, let’s try this again.” His voice is friendly, as Bull’s usually is, but Dorian’s not buying it for a second. “What brought you to Redcliff? Just passing through?”

“That would be a spectacular coincidence if I were.” Dorian tells him. “Just going for a stroll in the countryside and somehow just happened to find a Tevinter supremist cult focused on world domination.” His tone is still a little cold, but Bull looks as patient as ever. “No, I was not there by accident.” He admits after a serious pause. “I was there looking for my old mentor. He’d been acting rather strangely and his son was concerned. He sent for me, hoping that I might be able to get to the bottom of it. Of course little did we know at the time that we’d be stumbling upon a Venatori plot.”

“Why send for you?” Cassandra asks and Dorian almost sighs.

“I’m pretty sure I already said why, but I’ll elaborate. Alexius and I were once quite close, he was like a surrogate father to me for a time.” Dorian tells her. “Also, I was his pupil. None knew his method of magic better than I so I would be the best choice to unravel whatever he was up to knowing his methods as I do…but for the most part Felix-” There’s a condemnation in how he says his friends name to the Seeker and Cassandra has the decency to look slightly apologetic. “Had hoped that he and I might be able to provide a united front to make Alexius step down from whatever it was that he had gotten himself mixed up in.” _“Felix? Maker Alexius what have you done!”_ Dorian swallows tightly at the memory. “…Unfortunately it did not play out that way.”

“What happened?” Varric’s voice is kind, but the question is not.

“As I said before, a lot of things happened. All of them horrible.” Dorian answers him. “The mages pledged themselves to the Venatori, Alexius spiraled into madness which ended up costing both of us a price that we had not been prepared to pay, and a lot of people died.” Dorian’s mind thinks of Felix. “…some of the best people.”

“How did you get out?” Varric questions and Dorian shrugs.

“Like I said, none knew Alexius’s methods better than I. Getting past his wards and defenses was like child’s play.” He tells them. “After that, I ran straight to you. It wasn’t easy, but I did the best with what I could.”

“So you can’t think of _any_ reason why Corypheus would be interested in you?” Bull asks and Dorian looks him right in the eye.

“I haven’t the faintest idea. Perhaps he saw the sad state that the mages of the mage rebellion were in and wants better stock to fill his army with.” Dorian tells him, and it’s true. Dorian isn’t fully sure what in the name of all Thedas he did that made Corypheus interested although he does have some ideas, but they’re nothing that he’s going to be sharing anytime soon. “However, I did muck up his plans quite a bit. He strikes me as the vindictive sort, perhaps that’s why he wants me alive. To show me the error of my ways himself. He seems like the sort to do that kind of thing.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out.” Evelyn says, her shoulders getting that stubborn set to them that he’s come to be all too familiar with. “Until then, we’ve got other issues to deal with. Do you know who slashed your tent?”

“No, unfortunately.” Dorian says, glad that the subject has shifted. “But give me fifteen or twenty minutes and I’ll have it fixed up like new.”

“Don’t worry about it,” The Inquisitor says, waving her hand. “You’ll bunk with Bull for the remainder of the trip.”

“What?” Dorian asks, glancing at the qunari out of the corner of his eye and Bull just gives him a grin and does a silly little finger wave. “That’s hardly necessary.”

“Someone basically attacked you at camp.” The Inquisitor says. “I’m not taking the chance that the tent was just a warmup. No one in their right mind is going to take on you and Bull at the same time, you’ll be safe.”

“Vishante kaffas. I’m not some helpless, wilting flower. I don’t need some oaf protecting me.” Dorian snaps and Evelyn just levels a look on him.

“Dorian, until we find out who did it, it would make me feel better if you had someone watching your back…So please? For me?” He knows that she knows she has him when she says it and he growls slightly under his breath.

“Fine, but you’re going to take a bath _before_ you come to bed or I will drag you out by your horns and douse you myself.” Dorian tells him and Bull’s grin widens.

“Sounds like fun.” He chuckles at the mages’ threat, sending what Dorian can only assume is a wink in his direction.

“Ugh.” Dorian mutters as he rolls his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're finally getting somewhere! Until next time!  
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

The mud makes an obnoxious squishing sound as it gives under his boot and Dorian bites back another sigh as he tugs his foot up, completely resigned at this point to the fact that he’ll never stay clean in this Maker forsaken place. It’s taken them a few days, but they’re finally branching out past the small perimeter they established at Fisher’s End in the hopes of locating more information about these Avvar and about the Inquisition soldiers that they’ve captured. The threat of the Venatori in the area changed their semi-aggressive plan on reclaiming their lost members into something a lot more pragmatic and safe.

Dorian’s physical health has been on the up these last four days, with the Inquisition healer actually taking the time to look over him under the watchful eye of Cassandra, who has taken the tent slashing event a lot more personally and seriously than Dorian would have ever figured she would have. It’s surprising to say the least, and Dorian’s grateful for the intervention whether he’ll admit to it out loud or not.

The Seeker’s ire has had other benefits as well. Dorian’s not heard the whispers as clearly as he has before, almost going a full two hours at one point without some backwards ‘Vint’ comment. Of course Dorian knows that only means that the rage is festering inside whoever decided to take a blade to his things, but it is nice to pretend that he’s not as much of an unwanted outsider as he clearly is.

The sharing a tent with Bull thing however – is not a boon.

He’s not really sure how the Inquisitor thought that putting a bloody Ben-Hassrath and a Tevinter mage in a small cramped space was a good idea. Dorian knows that she claims that it’s to protect Dorian from threats outside the tent, but Dorian’s more than aware that the greatest threat to him in the camp at all is the qunari himself.

Dorian doesn’t doubt that his mistrust of the situation comes out clear as day to the qunari spy. The man is supposed to be able to ‘read a situation and people’, and Dorian’s been anything but subtle with how he curls himself to the farthest side of the tent, laying against the fabric, refusing to allow his back to face the other man. Not to mention that Dorian’s pretty sure that soon he’s going to start having dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep he’s getting since he wakes up on a hairpin trigger, his hand on his staff anytime the qunari so much as shifts or breathes funny in his sleep.

…which is often.

The Iron Bull seems unaffected by it, from what Dorian can tell. Either he knows that Dorian isn’t going to do anything to him in his sleep (Which is actually something that gets tested every night when Iron Bull shifts or grunts or scratches himself in his sleep and Dorian’s awakened for no good reason with his heart in his throat and adrenaline pumping ready for a fight, and he seriously considers the wisdom of attempting to smother Iron Bull with a pillow regardless of how justified it would be or how good it would feel in the moment.) or he’s just that unthreatened by Dorian and anything he were to try that he doesn’t even bother being worried.

Dorian’s betting more on the second and less on the first, even if his pride tells him that he’d totally be able to take on one qunari.

The squish happens again and Dorian doesn’t hold in the sigh this time.

“You take us to all the nice places Inquisitor.” He says, the sarcasm heavy on his tongue as he pulls his foot out yet again and tries to shake off as much of the gunk as possible.

“Only the best for my best.” Evelyn replies with a grin, immune to his harmless complaints about the Fallow Mire at this point.

“We should be approaching the potential campsite location that our soldiers were scouting when they were taken.” Cassandra says, pushing slightly ahead of the group with her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Everyone be ready.” She tells them and they all acknowledge her warnings in one way or another.

The strange taste of Fade magic in the air catches Dorian’s attention for a moment and he pauses to glance around them for the source.

“Hey Sparkler? What is it?” Varric asks, Bianca in his hands and ready to let loose at a moment’s notice.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Dorian admits and he sees some of the soldiers side eye him distrustfully. “There’s magic in the air, something nearby.” He tells them and he wonders for a brief moment how the south have managed to contain and terrorize their mages if they can’t even register when and where magic is being used.

“Do you think it’s important?” Cassandra asks him and he shrugs.

“Hard to say without knowing what it is.” Dorian tells her and she nods, glancing around. It doesn’t take Dorian long to figure out what’s causing the magic leakage, a kind of obelisk, raised up and illuminated by torches in the dreary dark. It looks like the path goes right through it, like a lighthouse or something similar and Dorian tilts his head as he approaches it.

“Ow, okay, even I feel that now.” The Inquisitor says, shaking her marked hand. Dorian figures he’s not too surprised, as Solas has said before the mark responds to areas where the veil between this world and the Fade is torn or drawn thin and while this places isn’t as thin as some of the others they’ve been, it’s certainly doing something strange with the Fade around it.

“Whatever it is, it seems to be putting out some kind of beacon.” Dorian tells them, stepping closer to it. “It’s putting out some kind of energy.”

“Do you recognize it?” Varric asks, looking at the tower distrustfully and Dorian shrugs, circling it.

“It’s Fade touched, I can tell you that for certain.” He says, brushing the strange plaque on the back that resonates with the invisible runic magic that they’ve come across before. “And for the most part I would say that I doubt that lighting the signal fire would be a good idea.” He says as he motions to the torch at the front.

“Do you think this has something to do with our missing scouts?” Cassandra asks and Dorian shakes his head.

“I doubt it, but I’ll admit that I know little of the Avvar and their magic customs past the sensationalized accounts and we all know how little fact is involved in one of those.” He pauses and looks at some of the soldiers. “Or maybe not all of us do. My apologies.” He says with an incline to them and he sees Varric’s amused head shake, alongside the Iron Bull’s small grin while the men glower at him with a renewed hate.

“Why would it be a bad idea to light the signal fire?” Evelyn asks, glancing at the torch and Dorian comes to her side.

“I believe that doing so will cause this beacon to call out to something, a demon or two most likely. Plus any of the undead that are lying in wait in the water who would be drawn in by the call.” He tilts his head. “Although, it seems that lighting this is exactly what we’re going to do. How fun.” There are a few naysayers who speak out instantly about the ‘crazy mage’ and ‘the abomination loving Vint’ and his want to summon demons for kicks and giggles, but Dorian ignores them.

“Why would we do that Sparkler? Normally we want to _avoid_ summoning demons.” Varric says and Dorian does a quick check, pressing again at the edges of the area with his own magic and feeling the push and pull of the Fade answer him.

“Because I believe that the magic here once held back the dead.” He tells him. “But it’s been corrupted. Probably by the Breach or maybe by an intentional or unintentional third party. Either way, we should restore it.” He looks back at the darkness from whence they came. “The path won’t be as dangerous for the scouts or the soldiers if we can get this barrier working again.”

“Safer roads? Sounds good to me.” Evelyn says, tugging the blades off her back and it only takes a second before the others in the group follow suit. There’s still some angry muttering and Dorian wonders how this will come back to bite him in the ass later, before he sees her nod and he pulls at the magic in the air around him and wills it to ignite.

There was once a time, back in Tevinter when he was a young boy securing his first patron, when seeing something like veil fire would have been the highlight of the evening. It was such a rare and relatively unknown phenomenon that the scholars hadn’t fully gotten a chance to adequately investigate. Dorian remembers the first time that Alexius told him about it, igniting the curiosity of the mysteries of magic in a young Dorian with his words and description of the event.

Secretly, Dorian’s slightly relieved that Solas isn’t here with them. He doesn’t doubt that the mage would somehow find a way to twist everything that Tevinter has done or taught into a lesson about how useless Tevinter is and how they stumble around in the dark, the only brief moments of knowledge stemming from what they’ve stolen from the elves.

Of course Dorian doesn’t doubt that for the most part that statement is true, but he also knows that it’s been a long time since the fall of the elven nations and that huge leaps and bounds have been made in the study of magic (despite the Chantry’s and the Templars best attempts) that shouldn’t be discounted or discredited because of the starter methods that the mages used to learn them like Solas likes to do.

There’s a strange pulse that goes into the air the moment that Dorian ignites the torch and the screech of a demons arrival echoes around them immediately. It only takes a moment for the soldiers to draw attention to the arrival of the undead into the fight as well and Dorian tightens his grip on his staff as he preps for battle.

This is the first battle since Redcliff where he doesn’t feel like a walking bruise or like he’s trying to contain mana like a sponge trying to hold water. Amazing what a few potions of lyrium and elfroot can do for a person, who knew?

He feels the grin tug on his face as the first undead steps onto the land and the demon reveals itself from the Fade.

This should be fun.

+++

The new camp at Old Thoroughfare goes up much more smoothly than the first camp established down here did. It’s a nice change of pace, both for Bull and for the Inquisition scouts tasked with putting up the new tents and securing the location. The Iron Bull’s heard how much trouble the first location was, with the curious undead constantly wandering into their encampment and Scout Harding’s irritation at the constant setbacks while Inquisition soldiers were missing. Bull’s thankful for the Boss’s foresight to bring Dorian along for this trip regardless of the necromancer’s distaste for the locale. He’s an invaluable asset, laying out wards and giving them a heads up anytime a corpse decides to start coming their way before he fully manages to get the wards up. Once they are up though, the tents go up like second nature, and Bull feels a little bit of frustration on behalf of the Vint mage when the Inquisition scouts and soldiers present _still_ mutter under their breaths about him.

They’re not brave enough to do anything more than murmur their dissatisfaction with the Vint, not after the Seeker pretty much threated to chew them up and spit them out if she even heard a scant whisper of any of that, but the cowardice of the men and the threat to the mage is still very much present.

Bull’s already talked with the Boss about it while Dorian was recovering from the Venatori attack. Evelyn’s worried about Dorian and Bull’s not blind, he can see a situation that’s only going to get worse long before it gets better – and that’s if it ever does get better. There are too many factors at play here, too many biases and fears at work to truly cut out this problem. If it were one or two issues, perhaps a stern warning from the Seeker and the Commander would be able to halt the oncoming attack that’s bound to come for Dorian, but it’s not. Dorian’s _everything_ that the Chantry and the Templars down here fear. He’s a free mage, unencumbered by their pointless rhetoric and refusing to bow his head in shame for what he is. Why should he? He’s never had to before and it just grates on those who are used to being able to take someone like him and lord over them.

Bull doesn’t doubt that there’s a couple of them who aren’t just angry that a mage refuses to bow to them, but that such a _pretty_ one dares to defy them. Bull’s seen it before and he doesn’t like seeing the possibility of it happening within the Inquisition.

There are good ones, there always are, Bull’s not so foolish as to say that each and every single Templar brought into the fold has a need to force the ‘magic was meant to serve man’ rhetoric, but it’s the ones that are who are going to ruin everything for everyone.

Evelyn’s agreed with him and his worries though, and Bull supports her decision that Bull and Dorian will be tapped for each outing that will take the mage away from Skyhold until the situation can be either contained or dealt with. The Boss has even requested that Bull keep a close eye on Dorian much to the mage’s chagrin. Irritated or not, Bull knows that Dorian can’t fully argue with the simple logic that most people would certainly think twice before attacking The Iron Bull, let alone alongside a mage of Dorian’s skill.

There is still a problem though, and one that Bull knows he’s going to have to get in front of somehow. Dorian doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him, and that says something since the mage can’t throw him at all. The man has been nothing but a tightly wound up clump of nerves whenever he’s retired to the tent with Bull and Bull can already tell that he’s going to wear himself back out pretty quickly if he keeps going on like this. Unfortunately, Dorian’s had more than enough poking and prodding at the hands of the Inquisition, so Bull’s trying to come up with a much more comfortable approach to their current predicament.

It leads Bull down a road that he doesn’t like to admit to, but for how easy it is to get a read on Dorian with his expressive eyes, he can be instantaneously impossible to get a read on if he realizes what’s happening. Hiding himself behind humor and well timed deflection and creating a wall that Bull hasn’t fully gotten a glimpse of how to get past yet.

It’s kind of fun though, Bull’s always liked a challenge and he could certainly use one with all of these fucking demons running around.

Bull helps finish up with the last of the larger tents, before he wipes his hands on his pants while he makes his way over to where his tent is currently located. It’s been a long day and he’s more than ready to get some shut eye before they branch out tomorrow. They’ve been finding more and more evidence of the Avvar in the area and Bull’s tracking skills tell him that they’ll run into them either during tomorrow’s survey or the day after. Which means of course that getting as much rest as possible is a must. He’s about to pull open the flap of the tent and crawl onto his mat when Dorian slips out from inside and pulls the flaps closed behind him.

“I believe we had an agreement.” Dorian tells him and Bull sighs as Dorian points off to where the buckets of purified water for bathing are located. Bull inwardly groans, he’s never been this ‘clean’ in his entire life. Krem would be having a field day with this if he were here. “You know what to do, chop chop.”

“It’s been raining all day.” Bull tells him. “Which means I’ve been showering all day too. See? I’m good.” Bull pretends to try and reach around the mage even while he knows that Dorian isn’t going to stand for such a weak and ridiculous argument. Dorian of course holds his ground, acting like a tiny dragon guarding the keep and it’s amusing and slightly adorable all in one.

“That is _not_ what that means at all.” Dorian says, planting himself like an unmovable object in front of the entrance. “And I really hope you’re having me on or I weep for the south and it’s bathing practices.”

“I’m qunari remember? Whole different beast.” Bull tells him, a smirk on his lips as he tries to reach around Dorian again and the mage looks up at him with that stubborn edge to his shoulders.

“Oh trust me, I have not forgotten _that_.” Dorian tells him and Bull lets the moment sit between them for a second before he steps in closer and he’s not embarrassed to admit that the defiant look that the mage throws up at him kind of does it for him. He’s always had a weakness for red-heads and the stubborn ones. The more stubborn they are, the more beautifully they break for him.

His semi-unhelpful mind doesn’t hesitate to inform him that Dorian would undoubtedly be stubborn at first, and that he would be _magnificent_ to watch coming undone.

“We had an agreement.” Dorian reminds him after a pause and Bull nods slightly, maintaining eye contact with him for the duration of it before he finally holds up his hands in surrender and walks over to the washing basins.

He’s in the process of upending one of the small buckets over his head when he hears it.

“Crazy bastard couldn’t wait to summon the fucking demons, did you see that?” A voice whispers nearby and Bull pretends that he isn’t listening as he grabs a cloth and starts washing.

“Who even says that what he’s doing out here is even what he says he is? For all we know he could be pretending to be helping us when he’s actually signaling the Venatori to tell them where we are.” A second guy adds helpfully. “It’s a little suspicious that they’re here all of a sudden.”

“Why the fuck does the Inquisitor keep him around? And why didn’t she bring a few Templars just to keep that thing in line?” A third voice.

“He’s dangerous.” The first guy says and Bull scrubs his neck as he glances up carefully to get a good look at the small group of guys sitting off behind a nearby tent. “Someone should do something.”

“No one can! You see how he has the Seeker and the Inquisitor wrapped around his blood stained finger like a fucking string.”

“Do you think he’s using blood magic?”

“Of course he is, they all do. Things like him can’t help it.” Guy number two says and Bull’s inwardly sighing at the proof of the writing on the wall. He’ll have to be more diligent in the next few weeks with Dorian with how these morons are talking. At least this time, Bull’s got some faces to go with actions. He wipes himself down and stands, making his way to the Inquisitor’s tent and he’s not surprised to see Cassandra there talking strategy with Evelyn even at this hour.

“What’s wrong?” The Seeker asks, immediately putting two and two together with his arrival. “Has something happened?”

“Five of your soldiers are discussing concerns that Dorian is a traitor and is using blood magic to influence Boss’s and your thoughts.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.” Cassandra snaps and Bull shrugs.

“It’s what they’re saying. I can point them out to you tomorrow on the down low if you want.” He tells her and she sighs before nodding.

“That would be for the best.” She says as she rubs a hand over her face. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention Bull.”

“Anytime. You should both get a good night’s sleep.” Bull tells them with a final head incline before he steps back out and returns to his tent. Dorian doesn’t meet him at the entrance, clearly satisfied that Bull will keep his word and bathe before returning to him. Bull slips inside and barely manages not to shake his head when he sees the small mage with his back up against the tent wall and pretending to sleep. “Get up.” Bull says a moment later, tugging his own mat to the center of the tent instead of the opposite wall where Dorian keeps ‘subtly’ moving it.

“What?”

“Come sleep by me.” Bull tells him as he starts prepping his mat and Dorian makes a strange sputtering noise.

“Absolutely not.” He snaps. “I’m quite comfortable over here, thank you very much.”

“Dorian.” Bull says, and he uses the tone that he usually reserves for the Chargers during a mission. The tone that says ‘don’t question me and do as I say’, but Dorian chooses to ignore the warning for what it is and curls into his blanket tighter and stays put. “Anyone walking by can see your shadow pushed into the side of the wall. All they’d have to do is stick a blade through it and you’re done.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Dorian mutters and Bull growls slightly as he shifts towards the mage and grabs the mat underneath him. “Bull! What in Andraste’s name do you think you’re doing?” Dorian snaps as Bull just drags him to the center of the tent next to his mat and puts a firm hand on his shoulder when he starts to get up in a pique of fury.

“Boss told me to watch out for you. That’s what I’m doing.” Bull tells him and Dorian’s barely concealed sneer isn’t helping matters.

“I’m more than capable of looking out for myself.” Dorian tells him and Bull just levels a look on him.

“Maybe.” He says and it gets the angry response he was looking for.

“Maybe? _Maybe_?” Dorian shoves at his hand and Bull allows him to push it off. “I’ve managed to keep myself in one piece long before I met you.”

“That was before you decided to sign on to the rebranded Templar order.” Bull cuts him off. “That was when you could keep to yourself and keep yourself from being noticed. That shit isn’t going to fly here.” Bull doesn’t let Dorian cut him off when the mage clearly goes to do it. “I get it, its crap. This whole situation is crap. You’re on our side but some morons won’t see that and they’re getting more and more careless.” He catches Dorian’s gaze. “Careless is dangerous. Careless is _action_ over words.”

“That seems more like my problem than yours.” Dorian fires back and Bull sighs.

“Look, I get it. Big bad qunari.” Bull says with a roll of his eye and Dorian puffs up. “I’m not your enemy. Stop fighting me.”

“Why? So it’ll make it easier for you to kill me when the time comes? Or let me guess, sew my mouth shut? How do I know that you weren’t involved?” The words are meant to start a fight, but there’s some truth there that Bull doesn’t like hearing.

“I wasn’t involved with your tent.” Bull answers him and Dorian crosses his arms.

“And I’m just supposed to ‘believe’ you?”

“If I wanted to scare you I wouldn’t have attacked your fucking tent.” Bull tells him honestly. “The Seeker doesn’t have the personality to do something that fucking pointless either. Boss has pretty much made it clear that she throws in her lot with you and I’m surprised that Varric hasn’t made friendship bracelets for the both of you yet. If you think either of them had anything to do with what happened then you’re just being fucking stupid.” There’s a vulnerable sort of rage on Dorian’s face and Bull softens his irritation. “Look, I get it. You’re seeing enemies everywhere because they could be anywhere. That’s fucking terrifying and exhausting on its own but it’s only going to get worse if you keep seeing enemies amongst the people who are trying to be your friends.”

“You’re not my friend.”

“No, I’m not.” Bull agrees easily. “But I’m also not your enemy. I think it’s fucking shitty what’s happening here.” Bull motions to the tent. “But in here, you’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m not going to attack you and I’m not going to stand by and let someone else hurt you either.”

“And I’m just supposed to trust that?”

“Dorian.” Bull says with as much firmness and sincerity that he can possibly muster and Dorian just stares at him. “I will _not_ allow harm to come to you while you are in my care. Ever.” The confession seems to derail any argument that Dorian might have given because the mage looks slightly unsure and shaken by the honesty in the promise. “While you’re in here, you’re in my care. I don’t care about any of that ‘Tevinter vs the Qunari’ bullshit, in here we’re just you and me.” Dorian’s face is almost priceless with the disbelief written on it. He looks like Bull’s just started preaching the joys of Andrastian and shit on the Qun. “We’re a team.” Bull finishes up before he motions towards the mats. “Now, get some sleep.” There’s a moment before Dorian reaches for Bull’s mat and pushes it away from his slightly. “Dorian.” Bull growls and Dorian gives him that defiant look again.

“Bull.” He repeats with the same inflection that Bull put on his own name.

“You were a little shit growing up weren’t you?” Bull chuckles after a moment with a shake of his head and Dorian gives him a tight grin.

“Never realized that I grew out of it.”

“You didn’t.” Bull informs him as he pushes the mat back and Dorian pushes it away again.

“You don’t need to be right on top of me.” Dorian snaps. “I won’t lay against the wall but that doesn’t mean that we need to be this close either.”

“Just go to sleep.” Bull tells him again, pushing the mat back and laying on it before Dorian can push it away again.

“Vishante kaffas.” Dorian mutters in irritation.

“Go to bed.”

“You say that like it’s a simple thing.” Dorian fires back and Bull shrugs. It only takes a few minutes before Dorian relents and curls back up. “Keep your paws to yourself.” Bull can’t help the tired grin he gets at that.

“I’ll do my best.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience! It just took a while to figure out what the next chapter looked like while working on my other DA stories.

These days, it feels like sleep has become nothing more than a required evil. It doesn’t matter how much it eludes him and how much his body and mind just want to fall into it’s embrace, true sleep always evades him. Instead there are half formed memories and thoughts, of the sky being nothing more than the breach, of the world destroyed and Felix staring at him with sightless and shrunken eyes. Of Alexius’s madness made terrifyingly real and of so much loss. He feels it all, when his eyes close. The horror and the fear and the revulsion and the hopelessness that he’d had to push through in that hellscape.

The Venatori’s attack have brought all of it even more to the surface that Dorian’s tried to shove it down into since barely three weeks ago.

How has it not even been three weeks? The flight to Haven and then to Skyhold and then out of the fortress for small rifts nearby it’s walls before finally taking off to go look for their wayward scouts. It feels like it’s been an eternity.

_“Alexius undersold you.” Calpernia’s lips spread into a smile as her eyes rake over him and it makes Dorian’s heart clench in fear. “Dorian Pavus. We will certainly make use of you.”_

Dorian jolts awake with a start, his heart racing and his whole body shaking. He feels like he can’t get enough air into his lungs and his hands itch for his staff. Where is it? Why is it so far away? He needs it.

“Dorian?” A voice next to him makes him jolt and he almost lets loose a fire spell but luckily the sparks do nothing more than form as he stares at The Iron Bull who is just laying there and looking at him with that one eye that always sees too much. Is he seeing what Dorian’s done? What Dorian has survived? “You alright?” The question is extremely funny for reasons that Dorian cannot fathom and he laughs in soft, tight sounding little chuckles. It takes a few moments to calm himself and he feels mortified when he does. “You back with us?”

“I never left.” Dorian replies to that and Bull gives him another searching look.

“Wanna talk about it?” Bull offers and Dorian gives him a look back.

“There’s nothing to talk about, besides the fact that I seem to recall telling you to keep your paws to yourself.” Dorian says and Bull gets a lazy looking smirk as he stretches out as much as the tent will allow.

“I did.” He replies to that before looking back at him. “You were the one who couldn’t ‘keep to his side’.”

“Lies and slander.” Dorian responds to that and Bull just shrugs like ‘it’s the truth, deal with it’. “Alright, turn around.” Dorian motions for him to roll to his side and Bull makes an overdramatic production of obeying him so that Dorian can change and get ready for the morning. A long career of needing to make oneself presentable in small, cramped spaces with no mirror has made it to where Dorian walks out of the tent looking like he’s ready to walk down the main street of Minrathous. _‘Never let the cracks show’_ His mother had said to him and he figures that’s the only lesson he ever learned from her. How to fake it when everything is falling apart inside.

Dorian makes his way over to the breakfast area to see what is being given out as an excuse for food in this Maker forsaken hellhole. The only thing that he can say is that after the unfortunate meeting with the Venatori he’s been given a small supply of lyrium potions to aid the ‘dangerously severe mana depletion’ that he’s been working with since Redcliffe. While he might have wished that they hadn’t fretted so much over him or maybe how he would have liked them not to know how bad he really was, but slowly returning to more stable levels with his magic is a boon that Dorian is quite pleased with.

It’ll be nice to be back at full power in a week or so, and then Andraste guide whatever Venatori asshole who puts themselves in Dorian’s path.

“Morning Sparkler.” Varric greets and Dorian gives him one of his more charming smiles that’s just a little more honest and genuine than it might have been yesterday. He’s a little loathe to admit it, but Iron Bull was right last night. There are enemies all around, waiting to strike from the corners at any time, but Varric isn’t one of them. The dwarf has been nothing but friendly and understanding in this whole mess. Who knows maybe it’s just two outcasts coming together, but whatever threat is here – Varric isn’t apart of it.

“Morning Varric.” Dorian replies as he sits down next to the dwarf and accepts the dried meat and fruits masquerading as food. They hold up a kind of pointless conversation, Varric likes making sure there’s noise at all times, and Dorian notices how Iron Bull is over by Cassandra and Evelyn. Hopefully they’re talking about wherever these missing scouts are and not about Dorian’s nighttime issues. Nightmares are dangerous for a mage under normal circumstances after all, now with the breach tearing open the veil and letting demons easily wander about? It was ten times deadlier.

Not that he’s a threat of turning into an Abomination, Tevinter may not do ‘Harrowings’ – which are just the single most pointless exercises of determining a mage’s fortitude against demonic seduction techniques – they do hammer in plenty of lessons regarding demonic possession and demons in general.

“Have you heard from your friend yet?” Dorian asks, turning his attention back to Varric and Varric shakes his head.

“No, Hawke needed to check in on someone else first before he tracked Stroud down.” Varric replies and Dorian gives him a curious look.

“Oh?”

“Yeah…it’s…complicated Sparkler. Please don’t ask.” Varric deflects and Dorian nods easily. It only takes a few more minutes before Cassandra comes over to them, her hand on her sword hilt.

“Prepare to leave. We think we’ve found them.”

“Thank the Maker.” Dorian says with a grateful sigh. He’s more than ready to be out of this swamp and Andraste help anyone who gets in his way.

~+~

_There are bodies strewn around the Avaar ‘throne’ and they litter the ground around them. It’s the biggest mistake they could have ever made to pick this as their battle area._

_Dorian feels the smirk cross his face as he pulls on the veil and warps it around the dozen or more bodies. The gurgled cries of rage from the risen corpses intermingle with the horrified screams of the Avaar suddenly pitted against their own dead._

_“Sparkler…” Varric says, catching his breath as he watches the chaos and the carnage. “You’re terrifying.”_

_Dorian smiles at that._

~+~

Rebel Archivist.

It’s a new title attributed to Dorian and he finds he rather likes it. The Skyhold library is pretty much all in his hands, no Templar brought in by the Inquisitor seems to understand the importance of books over swords and while all the Tranquil standing around unsettle Dorian to a point, it’s nice to have a place that’s his and that gives him the feeling that he’s doing something instead of just sitting around waiting for the next harassment or attack.

His rooms are just off of the library and he’s grown rather attached to them pretty quickly. They’re not the biggest, in fact he thinks they’re barely the size of his or Mae’s closet back in the Imperium but it’s his. No Templar can come down the small hall leading to it without alerting about eight different Tranquil and all of the Tranquil know that no one outside of the Inquisitor’s team is allowed anywhere near Dorian’s private quarters.

Well…they keep letting Mother Giselle down here, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Dorian jumps a little when the door flies open suddenly, and Evelyn rushes in. Her eyes are wide and horrified as she looks around the room and Dorian sits up straighter. Are they under attack?

“Hide me.” Evelyn says before Dorian can inquire about what’s happening and she all but slams the door behind her, locking it quickly with a desperate look in her eyes. She looks like a wild animal being cornered during a hunt and Dorian immediately pushes himself to his feet, putting down the book he was reading in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re after me.” Evelyn replies, her eyes searching frantically around the room for an adequate hiding place.

“Who is after you?” Dorian asks, wondering what strangeness is happening in Skyhold right now that has the Herald fleeing with her tail between her legs. Dorian’s seen her stand up to darkspawn and demons alike without so much as a flinch, yet right now she looks like she’ll throw herself from the window if it’ll save her from whatever or whoever is coming for her.

There’s a knock at the door and Evelyn _vaults_ over the bed before yanking open the armoire door and squeezing herself inside, pulling the doors closed around her. If Dorian wasn’t so confused about what’s happening, he’d probably be rather amused by the image. He takes a moment before walking over to the door and unlocking it, pulling it open to see just what or who it is the Inquisitor is hiding from. He half expects Corypheus to be standing there with her reaction but that’s not who he’s greeted with.

“I know she’s here.” Josephine says, pushing the door open and walking in as Vivienne follows behind her. “Where is she Dorian?”

“I do believe that you’re going to have to be clearer.” Dorian replies to that. “Who and why do you need them?”

“Inquisitor, come out.” Josephine calls out into the room. “Where is she Dorian?”

“What makes you think she’s in here?”

“Because Leliana saw her go this way and at least four of the library assistants pointed in this direction when we asked.”

“May I ask why you need her?” Dorian asks and he glances at Vivienne who has taken to perusing through his personal affects as she answers him.

“The Lady Inquisitor has apparently met her one true arch nemesis.” The enchanter says. “In the form of a tailor from Val Royeaux.” Dorian can’t hold back the soft snort of amusement he has at the information.

“Oh, I see. Well that is truly terrifying.” Dorian says before he shrugs. “Well I’m afraid I can’t help you ladies. As you can see, there’s no Inquisitor here.”

“…She’s in the closet, isn’t she?” Josephine asks after a moment’s pause.

“No.” Comes the muffled response from behind the closed doors and Dorian has to turn away for a second to bite back the smile that wants to spread across his face before he turns back to the diplomat.

“As you can hear, my suddenly sentient armoire says that the Inquisitor is not hiding within it.” He informs Josephine and he just gives a helpless shrug when she glares at him. “So, I guess your search must continue elsewhere.”

“Inquisitor, come out.” Josephine says with an exasperated undertone to her voice as she walks over to the armoire and opens the doors. They only stay open for a second before the woman inside pulls them closed again. “We were almost finished.”

“You said that _two hours_ ago.” Evelyn snaps from inside her sanctuary.

“It has not been two hours.” Josephine replies with a sigh and Vivienne holds up one of his creams.

“This is quite lovely my dear, where did you purchase it?” She asks as she takes another dainty sniff of it.

“I got it from the merchant down at the Gardens. Belle her name is. Not a very wide selection, but some of it is worth it.” He replies and Vivienne nods as she puts it back.

“I’ll have to pick some up.” She says before looking at Dorian. “Now, if you could please help us convince her Lady Inquisitor to vacate the armoire so that we might get her fitted for some decent clothing, we would be much obliged.”

“This is necessary.” Josephine is telling the door and Evelyn pops it open to give her a look like she’s not longer buying what Josephine is trying to sell before she closes the doors again.

“Are you absolutely sure he’s not a Venatori spy?” Evelyn asks from her hiding spot. “Because I’m not so sure anymore Josie. He’s clearly trying to kill me.”

“He’s not a spy.” Leliana says from the door and Dorian jumps a little inside at not having heard the woman approach at all.

“Thank you Leliana.” Josephine says before turning back to the armoire. “You hear that? Not a spy. Now come out of there so we can finish this. The sooner we get started the sooner it’s over.”

“Why do I need so many?” Evelyn asks her. “I have plenty now.”

“It is important that you look the part of the Inquisitor just as much as you play it. This is just as vital to our success as any war meeting that you have with Cassandra or Cullen.” She replies to her. “We will be entertaining guests very soon and you must be presentable to them. It would not do for you to not have an adequate wardrobe to receive them.”

“What’s going on?” Varric asks, entering the fray alongside Leliana and Dorian feels that his rooms are not big enough to accommodate the sudden influx of people inside of them.

“Fittings.” Dorian offers up in answer to the dwarf’s question and Varric makes a face.

“Ugh, I hate those things they’re the worst.” He replies and Evelyn pops her head out and gives Varric a smile like she’s thanking him for his solidarity, but Varric crumbles seconds later when Josephine levels a look at him. “But completely necessary. One of those things you just have to grin and stick through.” He says quickly and totally unconvincingly.

“Traitor.” Evelyn mutters and Varric holds his hands up with a smile.

“I know which part of the crowd to play to.” He tells the Inquisitor. “Surely you can handle a simple tailoring? I mean, you’ve faced off against Corypheus.”

“Corypheus just wants to stab me and be done with it. He doesn’t want me to stand still for two hours-”

“It has _not_ been two hours.” Josephine interjects and Evelyn continues like she hasn’t.

“-and poke me with a dozen needles and scold me each time I flinch.”

“If you didn’t squirm so much my dear.” Vivienne replies and Evelyn shakes her head.

“No, I’m not here. I’ve been taken back to Andraste’s side or whatever ridiculous Chantry rumor you want to start next and I’m not here.” She tries to close the doors again but Josephine grabs them, resulting in a hilarious game of tug of war between the two of them.

This is the group that’s going to save the world. Dorian would be terrified if he wasn’t so amused.

“Perhaps I should give it a try.” Dorian says as he waves Josephine off and he comes over to where the Inquisitor is awkwardly situated in the small area, smushing his clothes. He leans forward and whispers in the woman’s ear about how a certain commander might respond to seeing some of those ensembles and Dorian offers to help Evelyn blow his socks off when he sees her before he leans back and he knows he’s won by the look on Evelyn’s face. “How does that sound? Is that an acceptable deal?”

“…Yeah…that sounds like a good compromise.” She says and Josephine throws her hands up in praise.

“Finally. Come, we must return.” She says and Evelyn crawls out of her safe zone, sending one final look to Dorian before following after the ambassador obediently.

“Well done.” Vivienne chuckles as she follows them and Dorian Gives her a smirk.

“I aim to please.”

“Oh, of that I’m sure my dear.” She fires back almost playfully and she leaves and Dorian glances at Varric who is still standing in the doorframe. Leliana is nowhere to be seen and Dorian’s head hurts when he tries to figure out when she disappeared. Varric motions for himself to come in and Dorian nods and Varric closes the door behind him.

“What brings you by Varric?” Dorian asks and the dwarf chuckles a little.

“I thought it’d be quiet so we could talk. I didn’t expect to find half of the Inquisition in here.” Varric says and Dorian smiles a little at that with him.

“I was quite surprised myself.” Dorian says. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I wanted to talk with you about something.” Varric says, going over to the bed and sitting on it, looking at him. “It’s about what the Venatori said.”

“Which Venatori? We run into so many these days.” Dorian deflects even though he knows which ones he’s referring.

 _“He knows all about you Dorian Pavus, and he’s very impressed.”_ The memory rushes to the forefront of his mind. _“The Elder One remembers you in Redcliffe. He knows better than anyone the skill and the power you utilized to undo Alexius’s and Calpernia’s spells and escape to Haven. The Inquisition may not understand, but he does and he wants you at his side.”_

It’s a lot more information than Dorian would have preferred Iron Bull and Varric overhear. It touches too closely on things that Dorian has kept locked deep inside.

“You know which ones.” Varric calls him out on it and Dorian sighs as he takes a seat again in his chair. “They weren’t talking about killing you, which would make sense. They wanted you alive.”

“So it would seem.”

“It’s more than that.” Varric says with a look.

“What do you mean?”

“The Venatori group we ran into before that…they held back.” Varric tells him and Dorian tries to remember that. It’s hard to do, he’s been so concentrated on spellcasting against the mana depletion in a way that didn’t show anyone how weak he really was that he hadn’t fully given that level of attention to the movements and motives of their attackers. “It raised some concerns because they had a clear shot once and they didn’t take it.”

“You think I’m one of them.”

“No, but it was just something I noticed…and I’m sure at least one other person noticed it too.” Varric replies and Dorian’s mind supplies _‘Iron Bull’_. “But I’d bet all of Kirkwall on the fact that you’re not a Venatori agent. Of that, you don’t need to worry about and that’s not why I’m bringing it up.”

“Then why?”

“Because that’s not ‘a single group being given a mission’. That’s the _entire group_ knows that there’s some sort of ‘do not kill Dorian Pavus’ rule.” Once Varric says it, the thought process terrifies Dorian. He’s right. If the group before hand held back with Dorian then that means that there’s some sort of heavy price to be paid for accidentally killing him. And while he’s not surprised, it is beyond scary. “So, I guess I’m here to ask. I know that you don’t want to talk about whatever happened, but I think that at least one other person should know the stakes and I’m offering to be that person for you.” He looks at Dorian. “You’re a good liar Sparkler, one of the better ones I’ve seen – but you lied back there. You know why an order like that would be given, and it’s not because Corypheus is a poor loser.” Dorian takes a moment and he thinks about all the reasons why he shouldn’t tell anyone, but he also can’t deny that Varric has a point. If no one else knows what he knows then they won’t know what’s at stake should it all come to pass.

“Alexius was my mentor.” Dorian says slowly, the words tight and not really wanting to part from him but the dwarf’s eyes are kind and patient. “My patron, pushing me into the higher levels of success in the Circles. We worked together on everything, researching and studying. He was like a second father to me, at one point I would have said a much better one than my own, not that it’s a hard line to surpass.” Dorian looks at his hands. “Felix, his son…”

“The one who called you to Redcliffe?” Varric asks gently when Dorian doesn’t continue the story and Dorian nods.

“Felix and his mother were attacked by darkspawn. Felix contracted the Blight.” Dorian continues and Varric lets out a soft curse. “Alexius and I…we worked together on it. We were able to sustain Felix, to give him more time than the infection wanted to allot him but we could not cure him. I…I couldn’t take it after a while and we fought and I left.” That’s such a shortened version of what happened that it’s almost insulting but Dorian knows that isn’t where the answers Varric’s looking for rest. “Alexius was desperate to cure Felix and I guess I never realized how dangerous a desperate man can get.”

“He joined the Venatori to cure his son?”

“Yes.” Dorian nods. “Corypheus promised him that he could reverse the Blight and save Felix so Alexius did whatever was asked of him.” Dorian sighs. “One of the areas of study that Alexius and I considered back when we were…very desperate ourselves to save Felix, was time magic.”

“Time magic?”

“We wanted to see if it could be possible to go back and undo the attack. If it never happened then Felix would live, but it never worked.”

“Until it did.” Varric says and his voice sounds slightly horrified as Dorian nods.

“The Breach, something about it allowed for it to work. Like it was the key that finally turned the lock. I showed up in Redcliffe to try and convince Alexius to stop whatever it was he was doing and to go home with Felix. To give Felix the dignity of not being dragged all around Thedas in his final days.” Dorian shakes his head. “I didn’t realize what I was stepping into. Time was…not just distorted, it was falling apart at the seams. What Alexius was doing to enslave the rebel mages was wildly dangerous and worse, he was doing it without the proper considerations that we had always talked about back when we had entertained the idea that we might succeed.”

“That sounds…terrible.”

“It was so much worse.” Dorian informs him. “I told Alexius that I would not join him. I told him, quite foolishly I’ll admit now, that I would go to the Inquisition and tell them what was happening…I thought that he wouldn’t act against me. I thought…I knew once that he loved me as much as he did his own son…” Dorian shakes his head with a huff. “But I should have known better than to threaten his only cure for Felix. I wasn’t worth as much as Felix was to him. He tried…” Dorian cuts off for a moment and the words are horrifying in the reality. “He tried to use it on me. He tried to…change me.” The images of Halward pop up in his head. One father tries blood magic to alter him and the other tries time. What was it about Dorian that was so terrible that neither father figure could be satisfied with who he was on his own? They both wanted to reach into him and twist him around to their purposes. “He wanted to go back in time and approach me in a better way. To try over and over again until he found the right method that would join me to the Venatori alongside him of my own free will. He tried to use the amulet that we created in Minrathous against me but he forgot that I knew it as well as he did. I defended myself against the magic and it went wild…and next thing I knew I was a year from now.”

“What?” Varric asks surprised.

“The world…Corypheus had won Varric, and it was…it was so much worse than anything you can imagine. Red lyrium oozing out of people, demons everywhere, the breach as wide in the sky as far as the eye could see.” Dorian tries to stop his hands from shaking. “I had to…I had to fight my way back. When I did, Calpernia was there. She tried to bind me but I got the amulet from Alexius and I fought back…I killed him.” Dorian says softly.  “Desperation is a powerful drug it seems, I didn’t even hesitate when I did it…I didn’t even stop as he died…I just ran. I fled all the way to Haven, I wanted to warn you all of what was coming but I was too late. They were right behind me.” Dorian flicks his fingers in the air and summons the amulet from the small pocket of Fade he’s hidden it in. Varric’s eyes widen when he sees it.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.” Dorian says with a nod. “With this, the Elder One wanted Alexius to remove Evelyn from time. To prevent her from ever being present at the Conclave.”

“She wouldn’t have interrupted whatever insane ritual he was doing.”

“Nope.” Dorian says with a nod, looking at the amulet. “He wants this. With this, he wins. No Inquisitor, no Inquisition, no nothing. Just sheep ready for the slaughter.”

“He doesn’t just want that.” Varric says, looking at the amulet distrustfully before glancing at Dorian. “He needs _you_ to use it, doesn’t he?” Dorian takes a moment before he nods.

“At this point in time, I’m undoubtedly the only living person who _can_ use it. The only person who would even know where to begin using it.”

“Have you ever?” Varric asks and Dorian shakes his head.

“No. I’ve not been powerful enough after Redcliffe even if I wanted to and…and I don’t. I saw and experienced firsthand how horrible this thing is. We should have never done this. We should have never made it…Somethings should never be figured out.”

“…well shit.” Varric says, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s…so much worse than I could have ever imagined.” Dorian sits there in silence for a while before a thought pops up in his head.

“Take it.” He says as he holds it out and Varric recoils from him like he just tried to hand him red lyrium.

“What?”

“If Corypheus gets me, I can’t have this on me. It’ll at least buy us some time if I ever…fall to him. I can’t imagine what he’d be willing to do to me to get me to give it to him if I have it and I don’t…”

“Why me?”

“…you’re the only one who never looked at me like I was the enemy.” Dorian supplies. “You’ve been kind to me, despite everything.”

“You’re not as hard to like as you seem to think you are.” Varric replies to that as he slowly reaches out and takes the amulet by the chain. “Can’t I just destroy it?”

“I would normally say yes, but it has too much power stored inside of it. To destroy it could in theory create an explosion like what occurred at the Conclave or worse, it could tear a hole not in the veil but in time.” Dorian says and Varric cringes. “I didn’t think the risk worth it.”

“He could always just make you make a new one.”

“He could.” Dorian agrees. “But if he ever managed that, it would take time. Time is such a precious resource, and I hope I’d be able to give you as much of it as possible.”

“We’d come for you.”

“Don’t you dare.” Dorian snaps and Varric looks at him in surprise. “If I get taken, you don’t do something so foolish as coming after me. You let me die, do you hear me Varric? You let me die and you help the Inquisitor destroy Corypheus. For Felix and for me I guess at that point. For all the people who have died to this absolute ridiculous crusade. If Corypheus gets me…I don’t intend to let him keep me.” Dorian looks Varric in the eyes. “There won’t be anyone here for you to save. I won’t be a weapon that Corypheus will use. I’ll do something permanent long before that happens.”

“Sparkler…”

“Varric please. Promise me.”

“I won’t promise that.” Varric says with a stubborn look to his face. “You’re not in this alone Dorian. We won’t let him have you and if somehow he gets you, we’re not going to let him keep you. You’re one of us.”

“We’re at war Varric. Sometimes losses happen.”

“You’re not an acceptable loss.” Varric snaps. “And if you get taken you better not do anything stupid because I will kick your ass and then I’ll hold you down for the Inquisitor to kick your ass afterwards when we come get you.”

“Varric-”

“No.” Varric shakes his head and puts the amulet in his pocket. “I’ll handle this, and we’ll do everything to make sure that it doesn’t go tits up again, but you’re not ever going to get me to promise not to go after a friend in need.”

“We barely know each other.”

“And yet I used the word I used to describe us for a reason.” Varric says. “I’m your friend Sparkler. I don’t know the life you had before where you don’t trust that, but I am. I make fast friends, ask anyone, and I’m loyal to a fault. I protected Anders from the Chantry when we’d barely known each other for a few days and I’d have killed anyone who tried to touch him. You’re in that group now. Get used to it.” Anders? The mage who finally lit the match against the kindling that had been building for a while now.

“You know where he is, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” Varric says with a shrug. “I knew where Hawke was didn’t I? They’re rarely apart.”

“He’s who Hawke went to check on, isn’t he?”

“Yup. Corypheus has attempted to take over Anders mind once before and it was a nightmare. We can’t afford to have that happen again.” Varric looks at him. “We’re not going to stand back and let anything happen to you Dorian. Not with Corypheus, not in the field, not anywhere.” There’s something so honest and solid and resolute about how Varric says it that Dorian…believes him.

And the smile he gives Varric is undoubtedly small and unsure, but it’s completely genuine.


End file.
